


Let Go

by lloronadeazulceleste



Series: When You Were Young [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Slow Burn, it's going to take time but WE'LL GET THERE, of course it's old tattoo au, please be patient lmao, this is my first sokkla story, who doesn't love these
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2020-12-21 15:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21076997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lloronadeazulceleste/pseuds/lloronadeazulceleste
Summary: Azula always valued her control. Pefection was a dream dressed as a nightmare. She's just testing what it feels like to let go.Or: With Ozai in prison, Ursa's ghost comes back to haunt her daughter. A past heavy on their shoulders, the two siblings are joined by the only thing they ever had in common. They just happen to stumble upon some friends and college life in the middle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> She thinks she has the upper hand. Well, he’s not letting her win.
> 
> “Take off your shirt,” he says flatly, waiting for the color to reach her cheeks.
> 
> It doesn’t disappoint, and her huff is a lovely victory. “Excuse me?”

There is no secret she loves control. She seeks it in even in the most unusual of places and blooms in it. She needs it as much as she needs air to fill her lungs, and water to drink.

How on Earth she risked it by a pathetic bet, she does not know.

Perhaps it had been the humiliating smirk on Ty Lee’s pink lips, as she laughed at her as if she were naïve. Perhaps it was Zuko’s new loser friends, who always seemed to whisper and point at her as if she were a weird, boring monk– their voices still resonated in her ears, echoing the same whispers she had heard before. That she needed a life. That she was nothing but her firebending. That her everyday was, of course, a nightmare, too stiff to even be enjoyed in its simplicity.

Perhaps it was just a small rebellion, now that Father was gone and all her hard work had been for naught, gone to waste in the murmur of what he’d done. She’d always be the daughter of a criminal, and nothing more.

Still, there she was. Eager to prove that she knew how to be spontaneous (_and wasn’t it ironic, that she had planned every little second she’d spend at the Tattoo Shop, and what she’d do afterward?_). That she knew how to have fun. That she was not a control freak.

Azula was no princess, but she liked to pretend she was. That there was something so inherently especial about her, that could never be taken from her. Something that couldn’t be tainted by another’s mistakes. Something that belonged to her, and her alone. Something that she could show off. Something to be cared for; something that made people stay.

Princesses do not go down without a fight, she thought, breathing deeply. Maybe there was no crown over her head – _maybe there would never be_ – but Azula fought nonetheless.

Mai opens the door of the Tattoo Shop, its neon lights blinding. Azula smells heavy smoke coming from inside, and it reminds her a little of Father’s office during Fridays after his business partners had had their meeting.

“Are you sure?” she says in the flattest of voices. If Azula didn’t know her, she’d think she was bored to death – but she does know Mai, and she knows she is giving her an out. Not that she needs it.

“Of course I am sure,” she answers, her brows frowning.

Ty Lee claps overjoyed, and Mai fails at suppressing a sigh.

“Look, Azula, you really don’t have to do this._ We get it-you're_ _so perfect_ you’re not even scared to mark your body for life. Let’s go back to the dorm, it’s getting cold and—”

“Oh, my. Are you worried about me, Mai? I’m touched,” she says, resting a hand over her heart. She manages a smirk, even if her knees feel shaking.

If she weren’t such a coward, she’d accept. But they are already there, and Father’s rotting away in prison, Mother is long gone, she’s pretty sure Iroh doesn’t even like her, Zuko barely tolerates her, Mai and Ty Lee feel pity towards her, and she only has control over her own body. Let her ruin it as her life is ruined. Let her take her control back.

Mai rolls her eyes, and Azula pretends it is the gesture of a true friend and not one that is with her simply because there isn’t something better to do.

“I’m serious, Azula.”

“I am, too.”

“Hey, I was just kidding – you know how I am,” Ty Lee says, and the weight of her delicate hands on her shoulders should not feel this good, “you don’t have to do something you don’t want to.”

But they don’t get it. She’s always had. It’s like a second nature to her already. She doesn’t care because it doesn’t matter. What is another mark on her body? She is not perfect, and she would never be.

“Let’s get this done with,” she says with a tired sigh, pushing Mai to the side.

Mai shrugs, her eyes hard. Ty Lee is the first to follow Azula, but soon enough Mai is joining them.

The waiting room is warm, and the speakers blast a rock song.

“This place couldn’t be more stereotypical even if it tried,” Mai whispers, taking off her sunglasses and letting them rest atop her head.

“I don’t know, the lights are a nice touch,” Ty Lee comments, a smile on her lips as she takes everything in.

“Azula Huang.”

“Coming,” she says, standing up form the loveseat. She puts her phone back into her purse, and when her eyes finally meet the person waiting for her at the door, her brow frowns.

_“You?_!” they say, almost at the same time.

“What are you doing here?” she hisses, jaw hard.

“I work here. What are _you_ doing here?” He actually sounds insulted, and Azula feels her blood boil. As if her presence were to taint such a place, she wants to spit. It feels like poison. 

“I booked an appointment," she says, counting to three. Let the savage humiliate himself, she is not gonna go at his level. "I -"

_“Is there a problem_?” the man who called her name asks. Azula finally notices him. 

“Not for me, no,” Sokka quickly said, glancing at the bearded man sitting at the desk in the front. The man eyes Azula warily and not without a hint of disdain, and her blood boils.

“I don’t have a problem, either,” she says, and it sounds like poison. “Let’s get this done with.”

She disappears through the door, not bothering to spare a glance at her companions. Sokka curses under his breath before he goes after her.

Ty Lee sighs –actually_ sighs_ – and Mai finds herself asking why she doesn’t have other friends, not for the first time. It lasts barely a few moments, before she sighs, too. This is going to be funny. 

* * *

The door closes at Sokka’s back. Azula has already found its way to the chair, legs perfectly crossed.

“You better hurry. I have an appointment at 6,” she says, eyes hard.

He tries, really tries, not to roll his eyes at her, but she always manages to break his control.

“Look, princess,” he says, and it doesn’t sound soft or sweet. It is a biting insult, and she finds that her cheeks are burning. “I’m gonna be as fast as I can, but I need you to cooperate.”

“Noted,” she says, and she uncrosses her legs. The movement doesn’t make the chair look less like a throne, though. He suspects she hasn’t sat anywhere as if she doesn't own the place. “What should I do?”

“It says here you wanted…”

“A flame, yes,” she manages to sound exasperated, but he ignores it. “I drew it for you. It shouldn’t be hard to replicate.”

He won’t dignify her jabs with an answer. “On your ribs,” he says instead.

“I recall it is written in the forms I filled, yes.” Her nails toy on the armrest, sharp and pointy.

“It’s gonna hurt,” he says after a while, eyes fixed on the form. “Like a bitch.”

“Of course it’s going hurt. A needle is piercing your skin. I wouldn’t expect otherwise,” she spats, her eyes blazing fire. He feels anger rising into him. She always speaks to others as if they were idiots.

He rolls his eyes. “No. I’m serious. It’s gonna hurt because it is close to the bones,” he explains, trying really hard not to snap at her.

“Well, then let’s make it hurt now. I don’t have much time to lose.”

“Don’t want you crying on my shoulder,” he finally gives in, and she smiles that smirk of hers.

“_As if_.”

She thinks she has the upper hand. Well, he’s not letting her win.

“Take off your shirt,” he says flatly, waiting for the color to reach her cheeks.

It doesn’t disappoint, and her huff is a lovely victory. “_Excuse me?”_

“I need free access to the skin. I’m gonna be moving a lot. Unless you want anything less than perfect on your skin, I’d say you’d better do as I ask.”

Something changes in her when he says the word “perfect”, but he can’t place what. They barely knew each other, after all. She was just Zuko’s little sister.

Zuko’s annoying, pretty hot sister.

“It wouldn’t hurt to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, you know?” she whispers, and there is an annoying smirk on her red lips. “I am not a savage you can order around.”

“Treat me like a human and I might actually consider it.”

“Jerk,” she says under her breath, and her hands work fast on the buttons of her silky shirt.

She eyes him, challenging.

Her eyes seize him up as if trying to test if he’s worthy or not. He never knew to say no to a challenge, and so his eyes never leave her.

Sokka follows her every move, her hands softly disposing of the white shirt and neatly folding it on her lap. It is with such precision that it fails to be seductive, not to say that it isn’t doing the trick on him, of course. But still.

Her choice of underwear is as flawless as she is and _who is surprised?_ but there is something laughable in her wearing white lace. It seems alien against her skin, but he can’t say it doesn’t look nice. Azula almost seems soft, rich jasmine scent and lace. Sokka almost forgets who he is dealing with.

She raises an eyebrow as if daring him to say something, to show a reaction. He tries really, really hard not to show what’s on his mind, though. He’d give anything to wipe away the smirk off her face.

“_Well_?” she asks, and her voice is now a whisper. He knows she’s no longer talking about tattoos.

His throat closes, and he counts to ten.

This is gonna be harder than he thought.

“Let’s get this over with,” he says at lasts.


	2. Chapter 2

“Nervous?” Sokka asks, a brow raised. He studies her face carefully to catch any sign, but she gives nothing away. He wonders how she learned to mask what is pretty clear in her eyes but dares not ask.

He wonders if it is because they don’t really know each other. If she's simply like that, but he doubts it. No one is _'simply like that'_. He should know.

Sokka has known Zuko for a while. They went to high school together, and of course, he has seen Azula around before. She always struck him as someone who was painfully perfectionist – and a royal pain in the ass. Azula would always go out of her way to antagonize him; as if he was born to be his nemesis or something equally stupid. Honestly, he never truly cared. There are more important things in life than being the number one in every single aspect. But, you see, Sokka is simply human. And he has never known when to refuse a fight.

Oh, and they fought. All the damn time. She’d always, always know how to get to him and would never back down. He could almost admire her stubbornness if only it weren’t so damn annoying.

“Not at all,” she rolls her eyes.

He laughs before he can help it. Does she expect him to believe her? Does she think him so stupid that he can’t see the goosebumps on her skin or the way her eyes seem to scream? She’s just as proud as her brother, and honestly, he doesn’t get _why_. It’s not like everyone is out to hurt them, you know? No one has a secret agenda with the sole purpose of harming them.

Those siblings surely are entitled, huh.

Sokka thinks it must be the way they were raised, and honestly, he can’t help but feel grateful for having had a dad as wonderful as Hakoda.

“You’re shaking, princess,” he says at last, a small smile. Who’d have thought that ice queen Azula would get nervous around needles? He’d have found a way to her reign of terror in elementary school if only he had known earlier, he thinks jokingly.

“_I’m not,_” she replies, stubborn as always. She does that thing with her nose that makes her seem actually human, and he laughs again. “I’m just cold.”

“I thought you firebenders did not get cold, like, at all.”

Her cheeks redden, and the blush reaches her chest. Not that he was looking, of course. She does not back down, though, and for that he admires her. No matter how painfully obvious it is that she is cornered, she always finds an out.

It is always so damn infuriating.

Azula does not dignify him with an answer, _and if looks could kill..._ “I said I am cold.”

“Would you want me to turn off the AC?”

“Do as you must,” she says with a nonchalant movement of her hand. It is too precise, too calculated for it to be graceful – yet it _is_. He suspects some people are born with that talent and hates that it is her who has it.

He proceeds. He has done that a lot of times for it to become something like second nature. He asks exactly where she wants it, and she points at the skin under her breast. She doesn’t react at the first contact of the needle against her skin. Not even a wince. Not even a blink. He almost wants to scream at her – _why? Why are you doing this? Why are you so obviously distressed yet you insist on going on?_ But he does not; it’s not like anyone can force her to do something she does not want to.

It becomes painfully obvious that the only one who can make Azula do something she does not want to is _herself_ when her breath is erratic, her chest heaving faster and faster.

He recognizes the start of a panic attack and decides to push her to the opening she would not dare take.

“Okay, I need you to please stop shaking if you want this to look good,” he stops. She finally relaxes her jaw, and he sees that for a small moment, her guard is down.

The moment doesn’t last, though. “I thought you were a professional”, she says and it is painfully obvious that she wants to pick a fight. Well, Sokka won’t indulge her.

“I am,” he says, calmly. “But you are clearly nervous. That, or it is too painful.”

_“I. AM. NOT. NERVOUS!”_

“Of course you are, princess!” he says, and he is oh so ready to raise his voice. A look at her eyes make him stop, though. “And honestly, I get it. It’s your first time. But I need you to relax if you want to go on. For your sake.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“_Azula_,” he tries, and it is softer than he has ever acknowledge her.

She closes her eyes, and her fists curl at her sides. He notices the scars on her abdomen, and the ones on her ribs. There are white and pinkish stripes marring the skin that should be perfect, and they remind him of the ones on Zuko, and how quiet he gets when someone asks.

It makes his blood turn ice cold.

_“I don’t like needles,”_ she says at last, and her voice is a whisper.

His throat closes. _“You don’t—”_

“I just need a moment.”

“_Azula—_”

“Alone," she hisses. "_Please_,” comes softer.

He can grant her that.

* * *

With a nod, he’s gone.

Sokka lights a cigarette in the terrace and relaxes against the veranda. Watching the cars go by, he tries not to think of the girl inside, and the storm held in her eyes.

It doesn't work.

Not that he expected it to, anyway.

* * *

When he gets back, Azula is sat with her back straight and hands neatly on her lap. There is not a trace of worry in her eyes, and he wonders –not for the first time, for he’s known Mai for quite some months now– how someone learns to mask their pain like that, and why they feel the need to do it.

“You may proceed," she says, and her voice sounds like that of a princess.

“You sure?”

“Completely,” she nods.

“Okay,” he shrugs.It's not like he can refuse to tattoo her, anyway. 

He sits by her side, and goes on with his work.

“You reek of smoke,” she says after a while, relaxing against the cushions in the chair.

“Everything in this place reeks of smoke, princess,” he rolls his eyes.

Her answer is a hum, and the place is silent again.

It is uncomfortable, but he finds himself at a loss of words.

She is the one who breaks the silence. “You made those?” she asks, pointing with her fingers the tattoos on his right arm. He has a full sleeve, dark ink with tribal designs, and she is thankful at his choice of wearing a tank top. The one that stands out the most is a wolf with blue eyes on his bicep, over toned muscle and skin the color of cinnamon. Azula studies it, and it stares back at her.

_Is there anything more annoying than a man who’s both intelligent and hot? _

“Oh, no. I helped with the design, but I had my friend do them for me. They are pretty cool, aren’t they?” he looks at her, a small smile on his lips.

_Oh there is, and that is men with gentle eyes._

Azula curses between her teeth. She wants to smack him in the face. “I suppose,” she says, and she really tries to sound nonchalant, but he sees the way she’s eyeing him.

He smirks.

* * *

“A flame,” he says, and his gloved finger cleans the space he’s working on. It gives her goosebumps. “What does it mean?” he looks at her face, and sees her brows slowly frowning. Oh, oh. “Not that it has to mean anything, of course. I mean, I got some that are pretty silly now that I think of them. But, like, you seem like someone who would only get a tattoo because it means something for them, and…”

_It means that my fire is the only thing that I have_ –_that I have lost everything but my fire_, she thinks, and she feels that stupid ache in her chest again. She wants to rip it off with her teeth. She wants to scream, for she is still so fucking pathetic. For she is so vulnerable she’s let her pain destroy everything – for she let her love for his father hurt her. For she is alone, and she should be grateful, and she should be strong, but she finds that she can’t.

“It was simply pretty,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

“Cool,” he answers, and he even tries to give her a small smile. She doesn’t say it, but it does not go unappreciated.

Sokka finishes at the desired hour. He admires his work, even allowing himself to admire the canvas as well. The black ink seems out of place but he can’t say that it doesn’t look nice. He cleans the tattoo, and his hands linger a little bit on her skin. She almost protests when he backs down.

Suddenly aware of her state of undress, Azula grabs her folded shirt and quickly puts it back on with quick fingers. He is almost disappointed at her fast work.

“I knew you had to be good for something,” she says, but it lacks the usual sharpness. He gives her a humorless laugh.

“I could say exactly the same.”

If looks could kill… Azula’s being merciful.

“Call me if you need something,” he says, and he hopes she does, even if she doesn’t need a thing.

“I will,” Azula eyes him, and he swears he sees a small smile.

His throat closes.

“Thank you,” she says, and before he can say anything she’s gone.

Her scent lingers, and it is thicker than smoke.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, well. We never were like normal siblings, you know,” Zuko says, and for once it sounds painful, like he hasn’t forgotten about the years where they were happy. Like he hasn’t forgotten about the years they weren’t.

It was on a quiet Thursday night, a football game long forgotten on the T.V. and a cold beer on his hand, when Sokka finally musters the courage to speak.

“I saw Azula a few days ago.”

Naturally, they are all together. Ever since the five had finally gotten over their weird rivalry with Zuko, they were an item. It was awkward at first, trying to reconcile the quiet but snobbish kid with the friendly young man that know would hang around them. It was easy to think of him as an extension of her sister; they used to be by each other’s side quite a lot during high school, but then, everything changed. Frankly, if you ever asked them how they ended up as friends no one would know. It simply happened, and that was enough. Iroh would even joke and ask them if they ever had a house of their own, for they’d go dine with them as many times as they could. Secretly, it filled him with joy knowing that his nephew finally had friends who cared about him as much as he did.

And it was great. Not even Sokka and Suki’s break out during their first semester of college, not even Suki dating Zuko had changed it at all. It seemed that there are some friendships that are stronger than everything. They were lucky to have found one as such.

Zuko got quiet, immobile as a statue. It isn’t until Suki softly grasps his shoulders that he seems to come back to his senses. That, and Katara’s icy, piercing glance trying to silence him

“What a pity,” Katara says, her tone cutting.

“Where?” Zuko finally asks, trying very hard not to sound interested. Probably he wasn’t. Sokka sometimes doesn’t know how to read what he feels towards his sister, but he knows that if it were him – that if it were him who hadn’t seen his sister in such a long time, and with everything that went down, he’d be worried.

“At the shop,” he says, as he scratches his beard.

“She got a tattoo?”

“I hope it was on her ass,” Toph says. Sokka doesn’t need to look at her to know that she is smirking.

That gains her a giggle from Aang, and even Suki. She tries to stifle it, though.

“I hope she wasn’t so difficult,” Suki smiles at him, apologetically, and Sokka can only nod.

“She was Azula.”

“_Of course she was_,” Zuko says through gritted teeth, and brings the bottle back to his lips. As if he’d been waiting for her to change. As if he’s grateful she hasn’t.

There is a silence between them, so he ventures to break it.

“She seemed… I don’t know. Lost?”

“Well, Ozai was her father. Asshole or not.” Suki, ever the peacemaker.

“She was always afraid of needles,” Zuko says, and there is barely a sad smile on his lips, though he doesn’t look at them. He sometimes gets like that; he loses himself to his memories. They are sure to be there to pull him back to reality, though. “She should be grateful that old fuck is where he belongs,” Zuko shrugs.

“Cheers to that!” Katara says, and Aang is the first one to quickly drink from his bottle.

“Have you two, like, talked after what happened though?”

“We haven’t, no. She didn’t go to the hearing. From what I know, she’s been reuniting with our lawyer without Uncle or me.”

“Are you worried about her?” Suki’s brow raises, and he knows just by the glint in her eyes that she is assessing him, reading right through him.

“Of course not! Just curious. I thought that, if it were Katara and me, we’d…”

“Yeah, well. We never were like normal siblings, you know,” Zuko says, and for once it sounds painful, like he hasn’t forgotten about the years where they were happy. Like he hasn’t forgotten about the years they weren’t. “It’s better this way,” he laughs, but the sound is alien and fails to lighten the mood.

“I also saw Mai,” he ventures, looking at his friend’s reaction.

Zuko blushes, and that is enough.

The rest of them let out a series of howls and teasing, until Zuko is as red as his sweater.

“Did you see her as well?”

“Did you call her already?”

“I haven’t seen her yet. I know she lives with my sister and Ty Lee, though.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Suki’s smile is light as she gently tugs on his arm.

“Perhaps you should really go see your sister after all,” Aang winks in such a not-so-natural way that Katara can’t help but smile. “You know, be the protective brother.”

“Last time I heard from her she was dating someone.”

“And? You’ll only be checking on an old friend,” Katara presses, leaning into her boyfriend.

“I just came back.”

“You came back like, three months ago. You can stop running now,” Toph says, crossing her arms.

“And I’ve been with you all for these three months.”

“Please, you missed us.”

“That I did, dearest Toph. That I did.”

“You were supposed to deny it.”

“You love me.”

“As if.”

“Oh, she blushes!” Sokka excitedly points at the girl, laughing way too loud.

“I’m not blushing you fucking bastard!”

“And such a lovely shade of—_aaah! SHE BIT ME!”_

“I hope you’ve got all your vaccines--! Toph!” Katara yells, but her laughter betrays her.

“Hey, careful! Uncle just bought--!”

“Come here you too, Uncle’s boy!”

“You’re crushing me!”

“Oh, please, you’re all stepping on my leg!”

“Such pretty legs Fangirl!”

“Thanks, Toph.”


	4. A million little pieces

It happens when the storm finally reaches the shore. Thunder cracks outside, and it echoes in Azula’s cries. She breaks down, and all hell’s loose. Long strands of hair fall from her shaking hands and her once beautiful locks are cut to a lack of symmetry and harmony at the hands of hateful hands. It reaches her shoulders, but she isn't happy yet. She won't be happy until she is utterly destroyed, until she looks the mess that she feels. Until she can make the voices in her head stop for once.   
  
Mai closes quietly the door at her back, thinking she just entered a scene from an alternate reality. She catches a glimpse of Ty Lee curled in the couch, crying.

"Thank Heaven you came!" she says, and her voice trembles. 

_“__Make it stop, make it stop!”_ Azula cries, as she cuts more and more. Ty Lee sobs harder watching the scene. She tries to get close to her friend, but a sharp fire ball directed at her stops her. The smell of smoke tells Mai that it has gone like that for a while, and it sobers her right up. “Don’t come any closer!”, Azula yells. Mai does not need to notice the tremble of her voice to know that she is drunk – the broken bottles on the floor speak for themselves. “Don’t you dare come any closer!”

“_A-Azula…”_, Ty Lee sobs, hugging herself. “Azula, please. _Please, stop_. You’ll hurt yourself!”

“I don’t care,” she says, and she laughs that horrible laugh of hers, the one that sends all their hairs on end, the one that sounds like that of a dying animal. “I don’t care. I don’t care. _I DON’T CARE!_”

Azula throws the scissors away, and they fall with a ‘thud’ that is almost silenced by the rain. Mai moves quietly in an attempt to grab them. She has to walk between the hairs on the carpet, the broken glass and the blood dripping from their friend’s hands. She knows how to move like a shadow, like a ghost. She's had years of practice.

“Azula. What happened?” she asks with a calm that she doesn't feel, and she notices that Azula stops, if only for a minute. 

“Nothing. Nothing! Nothing happened! I AM FINE!”

“You obviously aren’t!”

“Can’t I give myself a nice little haircut?! Do I have to answer to any of you? Do you presume to _own me_?!” she slurs, struggling to stay on her feet. Broken glass cut her feet, but she doesn't act as if it hurt. 

Mai knows why. 

“You don’t belong to anyone but yourself, Azula," she says, trying to sound soft and caring, trying to wear her heart in her eyes.

“That’s not right. That’s not true,” she shakes her head, and more locks fall over her face, barely hiding her animal eyes. _“I belong to him, but he does not want me_,” is a whisper that is followed by thunder, and Mai trembles.

“Azula, your father…”

“I failed him. And he shunned me out. _I—I failed him_. I was weak! I was weak and that was my fault!” she shrieks, and her body shakes so hard Ty Lee is sure she is going to fall. “I missed _her_. And I couldn’t… I couldn’t save him. He pushed me away and I deserved it! He should’ve—_he should’ve made me paid!”_

Ty Lee cried louder at that, shaking her head. “Don’t say that. _Please don’t say that_.”

The three now well enough what Ozai's payment looks like. It adorns Zuko's face, it is written on Azula's back.

“He’s going to kill me. _He ought to kill me_. I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t do anything for him!”

* * *

Mai has always considered herself a mature person. Someone who can see the rational side of an argument. Someone who can stay calm when there is a storm. She is finding, through cold, sharp fear, that she had never, ever witnessed something such as the scene her friend was having. She still tries, though. Because if she does not try, she’ll end up crying, and Azula needs them. “Azula, you couldn’t do anything. He broke the law. He—”

“He should kill me. I didn’t do anything b-because… b-because I didn’t want to. B-because I was afraid. B-because I was weak! _And I’ve always been weak_!”

“You need to rest. Let’s… let’s call your uncle, is that okay? Can I call your uncle?”

Azula breathes harder, as if she is being suffocated by her own fear. She shakes her head so violently she almost stumbles over the broken glass, eyes wide open in what Ty Lee recognizes, with a broken heart, is pure, raw _terror_.

“_Don’t do that! Please, don’t do that!"_

“Azula, please. Breathe for me. _Breathe_.”

“I can’t. I can’t. I CAN’T!”

“What did that letter say?”

“Lies. Lies. _All I ever say are lies!_”

“That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”

“But they don’t. They think… _she thinks I’m a monster," _she sobs, and she laughs, and it sends Mai's hairs on edge. "She left me – she left because she thinks I’m a monster! Even she fears me! She feared me, and I did it all for him and it wasn’t enough, and I lost everything and I’m…I’m…” she sobs, it’s getting harder to understand her with a knotted throat and sobs that seem to come from her very soul.

“She’s your mother, Azula,” Mai tries, even if her words sound stupid to her own ears. Mothers can be terrible; she knows that well enough. “ If she left… she must’ve thought it was for the best.”

“She doesn’t want to be. That’s why she left. And she was right. I am a monster, and I am insane, and I’m… I miss her so much,” the last bit is barely audible. She lets herself fall on the couch; bloody feet crossed under her legs. If she feels pain, she does not show it. It makes Mai tremble; no one becomes such a good actor without previous practice.

Before she can think of another thing to say, some blatant lie to try and make it better, Ty Lee is on her way, with steady steps that lack her usual grace. She hugs Azula then, unable to stand being an observer in such an awful scene. Her slender arms hold her tight, so tight she wishes it is enough to bend the broken pieces, and Azula cries to her heart’s end.

“We’re here,” Ty Lee says on her chopped hair, and Azula trembles. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“Fuck Ursa. Fuck Ozai."

Azula doesn’t nod, doesn’t even act as if she heard the words whispered through gritted teeth, full of hatred Mai didn’t know she held. But Mai knows that she heard, for she held tighter to their friend. And not for the first time, Mai wishes her parents hadn’t been such fuckups either, for she can’t even walk to her and hug her, fear and pain leaving her petrified.

* * *

She falls asleep on the couch, the letter clutched tight against her chest. It is only after her breath is calm and deep that Ty Lee let’s go, wiping her tears away.

“What the fuck was all that?” Mai finally asks through gritted teeth, trembling hands trying to light a cigarette.

“She received this letter, and she just… she wasn’t her anymore. I was afraid, _and I didn’t know what to do!_”

“Did she… show you the content of the letter?”

“I didn’t even know she was writing to anyone. You know how much she hates that,” Ty Lee crosses her arms, as if trying to hug herself. “I’m sorry, Mai,_ I should’ve_—”

“No, don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault.” She doesn’t need to say whose it was. The phantom of old days still clings tight to their memories, and if Mai closes her eyes, she can almost see again the sheer horror that Azula had whenever she failed at something. She had thought it divine justice, before. Before she knew what Ozai was capable of doing. What he had done to his children.

“Should we call Iroh?”

“You saw how she got when you mentioned her name. Perhaps that may not be the best idea.”

“But what can we do? We can’t do this alone.”

"No, we can't."

* * *

“Hi," Ty Lee whispers softly, as Azula struggles to open her eyes. Her head is killing her.

“Hi.”

“Azula, are you okay? Does—does your head hurt?”

“A little.”

“Here, have some water.” 

Azula nods, as controlled as she can. She feels her hands tremble as images from the night before come back to her in a rush. “I’m sorry, what happened – yesterday, won’t happen again. I… I was out of my mind, clearly. I apologize.”

“You don’t need to – we are your friends," Ty Lee says, a sad smile on her lips. 

“Yeah, that’s what friends are for. You know, to have each other’s backs," Mai appears seemingly out of nowhere, quiet as a shadow. 

Azula nods again, and takes another sip of water. She needs something to distract her, to change the topic so that she doesn't have to see their worried glances again.

Of course, her needs and wants are not always met.

Mai is the first one to break the silence. “Azula.”

_“No._”

“Azula, you must tell us what is wrong so that we can help you," Ty Lee's approach is softer, and she looks at her friend with her heart in her eyes.

_“I don’t need your help,"_ Azula spits through gritted teeth, trying not to look at them in the eye.

“You obviously do. Just look at your hair – it is obviously too much to be bearing it alone," Mai is not one to play around.

And she is tired of running.

Closing her eyes, Azula breathes deep. 

“Mother’s alive. She’s… out there. _Somewhere." Not that she cares. "_And we – Zuko and me, we need her signature to access our inheritance. Father made it so that we couldn’t… so that we couldn’t do that. I’ve ran out of savings, and I… I dropped out of college.”

“Azula, you did WHAT?!”

_“I said I dropped out!_ I need to find my m—Ursa. If I ever … I need the money. I haven’t paid the rent in months now.”

“Yeah, we noticed," Mai winced, hugging herself tight. "We thought—”

“And miss Sakura is throwing me out.”

“She can’t do that! Mai and me, we’ll pay your debt, she’ll have to listen to us!”

“Except that she’s already listened to _me_." Azula breathes, closing her eyes. It had been humiliating... "I… I fucked up. I have nowhere to run. I tried to tell you yesterday, but when I came, there was that letter, and I…”

“Shhh. You don’t need to explain yourself to us. We understand. And we’re with you.” Ty Lee grasps her hand tight, so tight Azula almost believes her.

“Totally. You’re not alone, Azula.”

“_But I am," _she says, and her voice shakes, eyes wide with fear. "And I can’t be alone anymore. I can’t stand it.”

“You should go to your Uncle. Tell him what’s wrong. He’ll come with a better strategy, and maybe, together, you two can outsmart your father’s lawyers. He will pay for what he tried to do to you.”

_“He’s still my father.”_

“That didn’t stop him from trying to put you and Zuko on the streets.”

Azula doesn't answer, and Mai does her best to ignore a treacherous tear she is quick to wipe. 


	5. Just business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula is an ass, but so is anyone in her family.

Putting on her coat, Azula goes through what she’ll do once again. Her plan needs to be perfect, otherwise it won’t work. She is not expecting it to be easy, but she is ready for any kind of… misunderstanding. She needs backup, so she plans. They lost their money. _Well, Azula did, anyway. But it was Zuko’s money too before father tried to disown him, so…_

Focus.

They need Ursa’s signature to access the money Azulon left for them, now that Ozai can’t do it. Because he is in prison. Possibly thanks to Uncle Fatso _(anonymous source my balls!). _Or Ilah, who hates Zuko and Azula as much as she did Ursa. Speaking of the devil… Ursa has been gone for a while, and there is no sign of her. 15 years, to be precise, and if her detectives are to be believed, she’s a sneaky bitch. Hasn’t even tried to contact once. Well, not Azula, at least. She is no longer a stupid girl; she knows that if her mother ever tried to reach them, it would only be because of Zuko. If she wants to help her situation (aka get access to her money AND her place in the company), she needs to be on Zuko’s good side.

But in order to be on Zuko’s side, she must be… honest. Not that he’d believe her (_honestly, lies are so inconvenient, why would he think that’s the only thing she says?_). And in order to be honest she needs to be… vulnerable. The mere idea makes her shake to the bones. She’s done that already, two nights ago after way too many drinks and in the company of some scissors. Her hairdresser couldn’t do much – her pixie cut barely suits her but fuck it. She’d cried, she remembers with a wince. Cried until she fell asleep. It had been too much – it is too much. She tells herself that’s the only reason why she goes to Iroh’s shop late at night, soaked to the bone.

She’s not a sentimentalist, and she could care less about family.

Anyway, she knocks.

The night is cold, and she waits, trying to keep her shudders in control. Azula goes over the details again, preparing her speech.

Her thoughts are interrupted when Iroh opens the door, a surprised look on his face. “Hello, Uncle.”

“Niece,” he says, and it is a sneer.

She resists the urge to roll her eyes.

_What is wrong with exchanging a pleasant “hello” before jumping right unto it? _

_Hm. The direct approach should do, then._

“Is my mother alive?” she asks, then, looking him straight in the eye.

“What are you doing here, Azula?” Zuko asks, having recognized her voice through the door.

“Where is Mother?” she is calm, she is perfectly calm. The picture of a pleasant, educated lady.

“Azula…” Zuko starts, before him and Iroh share a look.

She wants to burn them down.

“I know you had had contact with her over the years! Don’t look me in the eye and lie to me!”

“Enter, please.”

She doesn’t thank him as she passes through the door. Iroh does not even try to take her coat from her –there seems to be a cuota of pleasantries – but she decides to ignore his lack of manners. There are more important things to do.

Zuko walks behind her, heavy steps betraying his mood. “Azula, mom is gone. She left because… because it was unsafe for her.”

He is using his placating voice, and she is tired. She turns to see him, arms crossed over her chest. “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

“Careful, Zuko…”

“Don’t worry, uncle Fiasco. I wouldn’t harm your precious boy, nor will I voice my thoughts on your… peculiar relation. I’m here on business.”

“Everything’s business to you.”

“You say so as it if were a bad thing,” she rolls her eyes.

Zuko sighs, as if HE was the one who was being treated poorly! Honestly, the nerve of this people. “Of course, you’re only here because you want something.”

“You see family as pawns to use in your game, nothing more. Just like Ozai.”

“Oh, no, Uncle. Don’t get it wrong. He was not my teacher in that,” Azula’s look is piercing and unwavering, before she blinks and carefully sets her hands in place at her sides, unclenching the fists. The faint smell of smoke does not go unnoticed by Iroh’s trained nose. “Anyway. I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice.”

“You want to find mom.”

“Dear God, Zuko, you’re just as dense as before,” she sighs, and tries —heavens, she tries!—not to roll her eyes. She almost succeeds. “Yes, I want to find our mother!”

Zuko’s breath gets caught on his chest, the weight of 15 years without his mother is as unforgiving as the very first day. “Will you bring her back?” he whispers, and his voice is the one of a tiny boy, too scared to acknowledge his mother’s absence, too scared to see the answers in his father’s eyes.

Azula studies him quietly. Iroh knows so, for even if he gets distracted by Zuko’s display of emotions – a soft hand on his shoulder, a sweet gesture of hope and of solace—he looks at her, truly looks at her. He isn’t happy with what he finds.

Zuko’s sister bites her lips, “I don’t know,” she says, truthfully. Zuko knows she isn’t telling lies for she can’t even look him in the eye, doesn’t even bother to find pretty words to adorn her bullshit. The way she answers, after a pause to think, gives Iroh the answer he was looking for: she was just as lost as Zuko and himself. “She left for a reason.”

And there he is. The resentment. The lack of empathy. Her cold, hurtful nature. Iroh feels the way Zuko tenses before he sees the scowl on his face, the hurt and the anger.

“_She was scared she_—”

“It doesn’t matter,” she coolly interrupts him, not bathing an eye. _There’s the lie_. Or the truth.

Iroh honestly doesn’t care anymore; he lost a niece the day Ozai saw himself in the little devil his second child was.

“She left,” Azula goes on, looking at Zuko. “I’m not going to force her to come back,” she shrugs. Shrugs, because that was never her plan. Shrugs, because, of course that was what Zuko would want. Of course, he might actually be able to get it, if only he were looking for her by himself. It is a fact, and one she is tired of arguing. “What I will do, however, is grant you something you’ve been wishing for quite some time. Something father took from you.”

“Zuko…” Iroh whispers through gritted teeth. _Don’t listen to her. Don’t give into her lies!_

“What are you talking about?”

“Our business was compromised after he… _messed up_,” she’s being diplomatic, a politician’s dream, the perfect posture, the careful manners. Azulon would be proud, Iroh muses. Even if she was Ilah’s through and through. Her voice is sweet though sure as she looks from Zuko to him, “But he is not the only owner.”

Zuko looks actually lost, and Iroh suppresses a sigh. She’s going to eat him alive.

Azula does not roll her eyes this time. Instead, a placid smile graces her lips, the perfect picture of a predator and her prey. “_Think about our family history, Zuko_. The answer is simpler than you might believe.”

“Mom’s family…” her brother squints, trying –and failing—not to get angry at her sickeningly sweet tone, and the way she is obviously enjoying knowing something he doesn’t. She’d always have the upper hand, and he just wants to slap that smug smile off her face. But he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. What about Mom’s family? She had no sisters, and her parents were… dead. Certainly. _Weren’t they?_ They were too old to still be around, at least.

Iroh whispers something through gritted teeth. With a side glance, Zuko confirms he understands.

“I see you have forgotten our lessons, and it pains me, dear brother. Surely Uncle thought you were never going to need a reminder,” her voice is sweet, but her words are acid. She sees the effect it has on her brother, and she manages to stiff a laugh. Old predictable Zuko. “Our great-grandparents, Zuko. Roku and Sozin. They were partners, and they took Future Industries to another level. But then Roku had to sell his actions… and Sozin’s family took charge. That was until a few years ago.”

“When Mom and Dad…”

“_You’re finally remembering!_ Yes, Zuko. After Mother and Father’s marriage. So, this is not only Ozai’s, but Mother’s too. You might have lost your inheritance from Father’s side, but there’s still the chance to get it back from Ursa.”

“Rina is still alive,” Iroh says, as patiently as he can. His eyes never leave her niece, assessing her every move.

_“Is she?!” _Zuko almost chokes. Predictable Zuko, indeed.

“Not for longer.”

“What are you…? _You can’t kill Grandma Rina_!”

“_Don’t be ridiculous, I won’t_! I was just saying…”

“_You should not play around with people’s lives_!”

“She’s old, she’ll die, we are all going to die. _Stop making a drama out of everything I say!_” sighing, Azula rubs her temples. “We’re her only heirs. So we have that for granted. Which is… barely a 20%.”

“What else can we aim for?” Zuko sounds hopeless as he signals the room around him. It is a nice house, though modest. Nothing like the one they grew up in.

“A lot more, frankly. _If you are ready to get your ass to work_.” Azula claps her hands at her back, looking from Zuko to Iroh. She can tell the two are intrigued, but in different levels. While Zuko is trying (and wishing) to believe her, Iroh seems… to be expecting her to blow down the house. He’d need more convincing, she notes.

“Uncle here was disowned, so his actions went to Azulon. From Azulon, they passed to Ilah.”

“She’s not going to help us. She hates our guts!”

_Thank you, captain obvious!_

“And we hate hers, _I know!_ But there is someone she doesn’t hate. Someone she has been trying to reach for quite some time, if my informants are to be believed,” she eyes the room cautiously, “and they are, aren’t they, Uncle?”

“And what do you suggest?” he finally asks, mirroring her.

“Talk to her. Tell her you changed your mind. You want your rightful place at the Company. Make her disown Ozai. He can’t make use of them now that he’s in prison, anyway. She’d listen to you.”

“Why would I help you?”

“Because it will help your dearest Zuko, of course.”

_“What do you gain from this?”_

“Other than screwing Ozai up? Not much. A chance to get revenge is something I wouldn’t pas on, no matter the consequences.”

It is what he wanted to hear, but that doesn’t mean he is less disappointed.

_What is wrong with that child?_

Azula trembles.

“So you get Zuko to inherit.”

“Mhm.”

“And then what? What will you do? How does your Mother play a part in anything?”

“Father created a stupid clause. He disowned us _both_, Zuko. He gave everything to her. And the only way to recover what is rightfully ours is by finding Mother,” she explains, voice even. She can hear her heart beating fast on her chest. Control. Focus. Licking her lips she says,”I don’t care about her part of the inheritance – she can do as she likes with it. I just want what was always mine; the thing that Dad took from me. That took from you, as well.” I don’t want my mother, she doesn’t say, because sometimes lying is harder than saying the truth. “And revenge. I cleaned his messes, I worked tirelessly for years, _and he…”_

“Pushed you away,” Iroh offers, not a hint of sympathy. ‘Got what you deserve’, he doesn’t add, but there is no need – she can read it plainly on his eyes.

“Played you,” Zuko says, and even as he has his Serious face on, she can tell he is enjoying himself – that hearing that Perfect Azula was treated like Failure Zuko is like Christmas for him. Her fists hurt from the desire to hit that thought off his head. She’s nothing like him.

But a good businessperson knows when to concede, so she does as gracefully as she can, with a quick nod. “Yeah. That.”

“Don’t tell me you weren’t aware of what he was doing.”

“Believe it or not, he trusts no one. I thought I had his trust, before. But I was wrong. His schemes were a surprise to me as they were to anyone else.”

“Not anyone,” Iroh says, lips in a scowl.

“Yet you didn’t say anything.”

“Grandmother Ilah is not going to help us. So, we’re screwed,” Zuko sighs, pushing his hair away from his face. “Your plan won’t work.”

“It will! The only reason why she hasn’t done that yet is because she’d die rather than openly help us, and you know that. But she wants Iroh back, Rina and her barely stand each other, and they are both old. They can’t keep having the company on their backs. I have a feeling she was the anonymous source that gave the info.”

“Your mother doesn’t want to be found,” Iroh quietly explains, too patient for someone who really wants –no, scratch that, needs – a drink right now.

“I don’t care about her whereabouts. I don’t want to go and convince her to come back. She left, good riddance,” she says with a nonchalant movement of her hand, too perfect for it to mean what she intended, too precise for it to be true. Ursa’s passing hurt Azula in ways no one will ever be able to understand, and even if she tries to deny it, it cut deep enough for it to become the only lie she can’t sell. Iroh stores that information, in case it will be needed in the future.

His niece doesn’t even realize, honey eyes gleaming with passion as she goes on, explaining a plan she must have worked on for quite some time. “What I care for, though, is my _right_. And I will get it,” she says, and there is no hint of doubt, not a hair out of place. It’s a thread as much as it is a promise. “She left,” she says, and for a second it seems that she is hurting, that she can’t continue. Her voice a mere whisper, she takes a pause before she speaks again, once she gains composure. ”If someone can reach her, it’s you, Zuko. _It’s always been you_.”

“Don’t say that. She’s your mom too.” Ever the peacemaker, Zuko pleads, looking as if the mere thought of his mother being short of extraordinary is a national offense, a strike to his very own honor.

“Not willingly,” Azula replies, words as cold as ice. It seems that there is not a hint of resentment, nor the sadness from before. Those are the words of someone who is resigned, someone who understands.

“You can’t put that against her,” Iroh can’t help it – he really can’t. It escapes his lips before he can master his tongue, but he does not regret it. Poor Ursa suffered enough.

“Uncle,” Zuko sighs, resisting the need to cringe.

Azula doesn’t bat an eye. “As I said before, I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice. I have tried everything, and I am running out of ideas, much to my chagrin.”

“Have you spoken to Rina?”

“I haven’t. Not yet. I was expecting to go with you.”

“Why? Why me? Why now?”

“Because we need to appear stronger. We need to seem like a unified front, or else they will eat us alive.”

“Can’t you do that alone? Aren’t THREATS and terrorizing your weapons of choice? Wouldn’t you prefer to just bend everyone to your will?” Iroh asks, in a cold voice. She is Ozai’s daughter through and through, and this is a battle long due.

_“Uncle…”_

“I don’t believe a single word you just said, Azula,” he continues, ignoring Zuko. “You’re a liar, a schemer, and a bad person.”

“Uncle, please.”

Azula frowns, crossing her arms on her chest. She is defiant, though, and is that arrogance the very prove that she is everything that’s wrong in their family. “No, let Fatso speak. He seems to have been waiting for the right opportunity to do so.”

“You’re damn right. I’ve been waiting for the time to say all of this to your face. I don’t trust you. What Ozai did to you? You deserved it. You pushed your family away – those who cared about you! In favor of a man who loves no one. You’re petty, and crazy, and your cruelty knows no limits—”

“See, Uncle? All the things you just mentioned? That’s you projecting,” she says, trying to ignore the deep pang on her chest, her mother’s words an echo that hurt like a knife. Her eyes burn, but she doesn’t back down – father didn’t raise two cowards. “This is where we’re different, and why you hate me so much,” she straightens her back, her hands smelling of smoke. “While you go and wait for the right opportunity to present itself, _I_ make it _happen_. I create it and own it. You just can’t accept that you were bested by someone way younger than you.”

It is a petty argument, but she’s past caring. She wants him to hurt, he wants him to regret. _What Ozai did to you? You deserved it._

Iroh opens his mouth, and a small flame licks his tongue. His control is slipping, that she notes with smug. “You come here to ask for help,” he drags the words, breathing hard. “What do you offer? A chance to get involved in a red of lies? I renounced that world long ago because I saw what it was doing to me. _I see know what it did to you_. You’re selfish, and full of yourself. You’re just as vile as…”

“As who?! _As who?!” _That’s it. There goes her control. “As the man who raised me when I was shunned away by my mother? As the man who cared for me when no one else ever did?!” she takes a step closer, fire burning in her eyes. “You think it an insult, I recognize it as an honor.”

“My brother is not a good person, and he is finally paying for everything he…”

She looks as if stricken. Paling, she says through gritted teeth, “you hate me for being what my father wanted me to. But Lu Ten was the same.” It’s a blow, and it lands as she intended.

Azula smiles, bloodthirsty, and she licks her lips before assessing what her next blow will be.

The mere mention of his dead son’s name is enough to almost send Iroh to his knees, a sharp, deep pain right on his chest.

_“He died because of you,” _Azula’s voice is a song. “Are you just angry because I didn’t? Are you angry because I succeeded in what you and he failed miserably?!” she pauses for impact, an eyebrow raised. “Well, I won’t say I’m sorry, if that’s what you’re waiting for. I didn’t kill Lu Ten. Father didn’t kill Lu Ten. You did it _just well_.”

He slaps her, hard.

“Get out!” Iroh roars, the dragon awakens.

“Azula…” Zuko starts, perplexed.

_“Get. Out.”_

“Screw you, you pathetic waste of space.”

“Uncle!” Zuko calls, getting in between the two once he notices Iroh’s control about to slip, once again. “Azula. Please. _Go_.”

“Oh, I was just leaving,” she says, her voice wavering as she adjusts her purse on her shoulders, Iroh’s hand an angry, red print on her cheek. “But think about what I said: we need each other, as much as we hate it. And the sooner we have that money, the better.”


	6. Please, please, please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula knows she looks a mess, there is no need for those looks. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes and ruin her chance of staying somewhere warm and sleeping in an actual bed, she goes on. 

She stays in place, breathing hard, as she looks at yet another door shut at her face. The rain is unforgiving and it doesn't cease. Her fingers feel lightning before it lights the lonely street, and she bits hard on her lower lip. Hard enough to draw blood. The words of her uncle don't hurt as much as the echo of her mother's do, she tells herself, even if her eyes burn. _ A monster. Always a monster! _ She did all it took to survive, why can't they just see that?! 

Seething, Azula holds her breath.  _ It doesn't matter _ , she tells herself. A fight was expected. It was never going to be an easy win. Well, she just has to try another approach. Perhaps change her entire plan. _ It doesn't matter _ . Really, it's alright. She's had worse. She's heard worse. 

So she straightens her coat and leaves without looking back, even if every step feels like a burden heavy on her shoulders. Even if the road ahead of her becomes blurry and she tries blaming the rain.  _ Fucking idiots.  _ Of course Zuko would side with him. Of course he would think the worst of her.  _ She was so stupid! A pathetic, naive girl _ , Father would say, and he  _ was  _ right! He had been right back then, and he was right now, and Azula had never learned better! 

Just what does her uncle have against her? He killed Lu Ten, that is true! Like her father would have killed her had he gotten the chance - the sweetest death, perhaps, for she would have died gladly if it meant making him proud - seeing him smile. The pressure that was slowly ending her cost Lu Ten his life. She knows for she saw him before he left that day, a wild look on his eyes, trembling found in his perfect posture. He had been perfect - as close to perfection as one could get. She’d seen herself in him, mirroring his actions, playing close attention thinking that perhaps, one day, her father would look at her the same way uncle looked at Lu Ten. But her cousin hadn’t looked perfect that day, hair a mess as he tried and failed to remain breathing, closing the door without making a sound, not wasting time to look back. She’d lie if she said she never considered following his lead, ending it all because it was  _ too much, too much and yet only almost, and almost was just not enough. _

She doesn't cry. She doesn't cry. She can't mourn someone she never had. 

Worst thing is, she has nowhere to sleep tonight. And she is soaked to the bone.  _ Fantastic _ . Absolutely fantastic!

She could go back to Li and Lo’s. Except she doesn't really want to see pity in the eyes of the two who have seen her just as she is - the two who still think she is a fighter.  _ Oh, she’d rather die! _ Taking off her eyes would be easier than facing them after yet another loss. They trained her, taught her what her mother never bothered to. Stood by her side, even when her temper was at its worst. They celebrated her victories. They saw what she was capable of. They can't see the mess she is now. She’s already shown enough. 

But that leaves her with only two options, and one of them is an experience she would rather not go through again. Sleeping at the train station had been as bad as she had guessed. _ Never again _ . 

So she goes back to her shared apartment. 

Mai opens the door at the third knock, bangs neatly brushed, marking her face. She is wearing her pajamas already, bare-faced and barefooted. 

“Azula,” she says, and sounds surprised even in her usual deadpan. 

She knows she looks a mess, there is no need for  _ those _ looks. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes and ruin her chance of staying somewhere warm and sleeping in an actual bed, she goes on. 

“Can I…  _ Can I stay here? _ ” is her question, balancing on her feet. “Just for tonight,” she clarifies, straight to the point, as casual and as collected as she can manage. It doesn’t work near as well as it usually does, for she shivers under her soaked clothes. “I’ll leave at dawn.  _ Please _ .”

“Azula, what happened to you?” Ty Lee’s voice is full of concern as she makes her way to the door, her expression hidden by the sheet mask she is wearing now. 

“Nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“Of course you can stay, come on in,” Mai says, letting go of the door so that Azula can enter.

“You’re soaked,” Ty Lee notices, helping her out of her ruined coat.

“It’s raining pretty bad,” she shrugs, making her way to the bathroom for some clean towels.

“You can wear my pajamas.”

“Sure!”

“Sorry. We didn’t know you were coming back, we just had dinner. We would’ve waited for you” Azula can’t see Mai, but from the noise of dishes being picked up, she’s sure she’s cleaning the table. 

“I wasn’t planning to. I promise I’ll take all my things with me tomorrow.”

“Hey, no worries. It’s alright,” is Mai’s answer, her figure reflecting on the mirror in the bathroom, accompanied by the slightest curve in her lips. That’s what passes as a smile in her. It doesn’t go underappreciated, for Azula finds herself smiling in return, if albeit a little sheepish.

“Here, come closer to the warmth,” Ty is ever helpful, arranging some cushions for Azula to sit in while she dries herself.

“Do you want some tea?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

“No problem.”

Azula ponders the next thing she will say, as she notices the closed door in the room she called hers for quite some time. Straightening her shoulders, she comes out of the bathroom wrapping a fluffy towel around her frame. “I’m sure miss Sakura must be looking for a new tenant.”

“She is. Just the day after you left, she showed your room to this girl.”

“How is she?” she tells herself it doesn’t matter, that she is simply curious. Hopefully she will succeed.

“A fucking prissy,” Mai answers, a roll of her eyes barely visible under her thick bangs.

“Mai!” Ty Lee protested, shaking her head. Sighing, and doing a poor job at concealing a mischievous smile, Ty goes on. “She seems nice.”

“Great.”

Azula busies herself with the towel, carefully avoiding her ruined makeup. She’d rather wash her face properly, thank you very much. Mai and Ty Lee share a look, understanding passing through them, a conversation Azula is no part of. So she waits, mentally counting the seconds that pass before they speak again. 

It takes 24.

“Azula… where did you sleep these past two nights?”

Sometimes the best lie is half-truths, so she goes for it. “At Li and Lo’s.”

“They accepted you just like that?” Mai almost sounds surprised, crossing her arms as she relaxes on the couch.

“They think they owe my father,” Azula rolls her eyes, but the look in them betrays just what she thinks of the two who raised her. “And you know they have a soft spot for me.”

“How nice of them,” Ty Lee is all warm smiles as she helps Azula dry her hair, which is not really a difficult feat, considering its new length. Still, she carefully combs the short strands, able fingers massaging her friend’s scalp.

“So you’ll stay with them, then.”

“I’d rather find my own place. I’ll have to sell some things, though.”

“Please don’t sell your grandmother’s earrings! They are just lovely,” Ty Lee pouts, giving the towel back. She goes to her room to find clean, dry pajamas.

“I don’t even remember where I left them. I’ll have to go back to my father’s home, see what I can take.”

“They still won’t let you live there?”

“It’s gonna pass to Ilah.”

_ “Oh.” _

“It’s of no use to even try.”

_ “It's your grandmother, she can't just leave you on the streets like that!” _ Ty Lee seems mortified, and Azula almost laughs at it. 

“She can and she will.  _ Fucking bitch _ .” Azula sighs, inspecting her fingernails. 

“Why does she hate you so much?”

“ _ Mother _ .” She can’t blame Ursa, though. Azula knows well enough that hatred is Ilah through and through. It is simpler to blame her mom, think she is the only one guilty of everything that has gone wrong in her life. It makes her feel good, for once.

“So why aren’t you sleeping at Li and Lo’s tonight?”

“ _ Mai!” _

“Did something happen?” Mai corrects herself, studying Azula quietly.

“What could have possibly happened?” Azula rolled her eyes, her fists clenching at the towel.

“I don’t know.  _ You _ tell us.”

“I went to see Zuko, okay? Uncle was there.”

“Oh.”

“Mhm.”

Ty Lee does not seem to notice the way Azula seems pained to even talk about it, so she presses as if it were nothing. “How did it go? Is he going to help?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

“Mai should talk to him. She knows how to handle him, and she’ll convince him to—”

“ _ It doesn’t matter,”  _ Azula snaps, toying with the towel. “He’ll see reason. He’s just… a little slower.  _ Typical Zuko _ ,” she manages to laugh a humourless laugh, accompanied by a roll of her eyes, and it is so perfect her friends know it’s bullshit. “You must be well accustomed to that, Mai.”

“So who was the one who slapped you, and why?” Mai snaps back, an eyebrow raised. She’s sharp as her knives, that Azula knows well. And she’s tired of this game already.

_ “I wasn’t slapped, _ ” she says, and it comes out of her mouth through gritted teeth and fiery eyes.

“Tell that to your red cheek,” Ty Lee whispers, and Azula rolls her eyes.

“Was it… Zuko?” Mai seems hesitant as she asks, perhaps afraid of knowing the answer.

“No!”

“Was it…  _ Iroh? _ ”

“He was being an ass, and I gave him a piece of my mind.  _ It’s not my fault he can’t accept harsh truths.” _

“ _ Azula _ !” Mai groans, her head on her head. 

Azula scoffs, taking off her wet sweater. 

“How will he help you now?”

_ “I don’t need his help!” _

_ “Except you do.” _

“Perhaps Mai can help you patch things up,” Ty Lee suggests, carefully avoiding both her friend’s gazes as she takes off her sheet mask. This is doing her skin no good. The two need to calm down before all the stress starts reflecting on their auras.

From the look that passes on the brunette's eyes, Mai would rather die. 

“She won’t,” Azula says, inspecting her nails. She really needs a mani. “I can handle this alone.”

“Azula, you don’t have to be alone,” Ty Lee tries to sound supportive - she really does - but all this ‘oh I am so alone I have no one on my side’ is getting tiring. 

“I know. It’s just my choice.”

“Well, that’s bullshit.”

“ _ Mai! _ ”  _ Oh, no. Oh, no.  _

“Oh, is that so?” Azula crosses her arms under her breasts, fiery eyes looking right at Mai.

“ _ Azula _ !” Ty Lee sounds miserable, as she waits for the fight to take place. 

“What?!” The two say at the same time, equally annoyed.

“ _ You _ need to be nicer. And  _ you _ need to accept that you can’t win this alone.”

“ _ I can _ .”

“Well, perhaps you can, but they are your family, and you will need their help!” to her credit, Ty Lee tried not to engage, but the way her voice raises tells the story of her badly concealed annoyance.

_ “They haven’t been my family for as long as I can remember!” _ Azula yells, having lost all her patience left. 

“Cut them some slack, won't you?!” Ty Lee sighs, “you’re not precisely…”

“ _ What?” _

_ “Nothing.” _

Sometimes Azula misses how they seemed to be afraid of angering her, before. When they were kids, she could control them at will. It is a power she lost long ago, and one that her mother despised - but that does not mean she doesn't miss it. Especially in times like this.

“No, tell me. Since you’re so brave and so wise, enlighten me. I am  _ DYING _ to know just what your opinion is!”

_ “Don’t talk to her like that!” _ Mai yells back, standing up from her spot at the couch.

_ “Or what?!” _

“Or you don’t get to sleep in here.”

Well, that was a low blow. 

Azula purses her lips, fighting against the urge to throw a fireball at them. Sleeping at the train station was definitely NO fun. And she needs her money left to pay the detective finding her mother. She counts to ten, but her fingers still feel like they are burning, and she swears she smells smoke. Mai does not flinch, though, and even if she admired her for that Azula can’t say she is very pleased right now.  _ “Fine.” _

“We’re just trying to help,” Ty Lee’s voice is gentler now, sitting right in front of Azula, her pajamas in her hands. “We’re on your team, Azula.  _ Why is it so hard to believe? _ ”

She doesn’t answer, simply clenches her jaw.

“You won’t get much help if you keep treating others like shit.”

“I didn’t treat him like shit. He treated me like some… some  _ monster _ .”

“I’ll speak to Zuko, okay? But  _ be nice _ .”

“I  _ am _ nice,” Azula scoffs, but after seeing the unamused looks that both Ty and Mai give her, she lowers her shoulders. There is honor in admitting her defeat, even if she is petty enough to roll her eyes. “Okay. I’ll  _ try _ .”

Morning finds Ty Lee’s eyes fixed on an empty couch, her pajamas neatly folded alongside a thick blanket. The living room is spotless, not a sight of Azula. Not a trace of her presence.

“She’s gone,” she says, and her lower lip trembles but she does not do anything to conceal the tears that fall from her eyes, the way her throat aches from the need to yell.

“Were you expecting to see her?” Mai’s soft voice answers her, leaning on the door of her room.

“Well, I thought…” she tries speaking, but it fails her. Her slender shoulders shake with the violence of her sobs, and that is something Mai can’t take.

_ “Oh, Ty,” she says as sweet as she can muster. _

“Were we too harsh?”

“No. She can’t keep treating others like that and expect no consequences. She must learn to behave.”

_ “But, I mean, she was s-so upset…” _

“Ty, nothing gives her right to talk to us as she does sometimes. Don’t try to excuse her,” Mai scolds her, but it is half-heartedly at best. She hugs her friend tight, hands rubbing at her back.

“S-sorry. It’s just that… with all that she’s been going through, her dad and then…”

“We all have issues. It doesn’t mean we get to be assholes.”

“I-I guess you’re right.”

“God, I just hope I won’t regret talking to Zuko about this.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka’s eyes, however, keep wandering at the lone table at the window, where Azula calmly eats her dinner, eyes fixed on her cellphone. She talks to no one, spine straight as a column. He thinks she looks every bit the princess she thinks she is. Regal, even in the middle of a greasy dinner. It seems weird, though, that she is so alone. No one tries to make conversation, not even her waitress. Sokka wonders if maybe she was stood up. Serves her right, he thinks, but he doesn’t feel too good about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought of perhaps having the chapters be a little longer, to make up for my tardiness. so this is a format they will follow from now on. i hope you like it! <3

It is a good day, that much Sokka can tell from the way the pinky sunrise illuminates the world around him. The light touches the tall skyscrapers, and the streets are full of people on their way to work, the buzz somewhat relaxing when you are not a part of it. He could stay this way forever. Just watching the day start, coffee in his hand, and the murmur of a waking city surrounding him, suffocating his every thought. He has no appointments until 10, but it feels nice to start his day early. He can always get the best of his free time. Maybe he won’t be attending school soon, not until Katara finishes her political sciences major, but until then he can always grab an engineering book from the library and immerse himself in the world of wonder that is aeronautics. He is almost savoring his time reading already when a strong figure completely crashes against him, with no ceremony and not without force.

_ “Hey, watch out!”  _ he cries, trying to keep his coffee from falling. It doesn’t even burn as some of it falls on his hand, inevitably. 

_ “I’m so _ \- ugh, it’s  _ you _ .” 

A familiar voice brings his eyes back to the figure that collisioned with him, and he notices her at last. He meets her sneer first. Covered in sweat, short pixie cut already wet, red cheeks and full lips, Azula stands before him like something out of a dream. A bad one, at that.

All thoughts of a good day are ruined as he notices the frown in her forehead, the way she crosses her arms under her breasts, just over the flame tattoo on display thanks to her jogging outfit (not that Sokka looked, mind you). And it is her demeanor, that of someone who is annoyed to the bone, that brings fire to his belly and leaves him seeing red. She was the one who bumped into him, she doesn’t get to feel all self-righteous! Sokka finds himself mirroring her posture, doing a poor job of wiping his wet hand on the material of his jeans.

“Hello to you too,” he rolls his eyes. “You should look where you’re going.”

“ _ I did! _ You should move your ass out of the way.” she says, lips in a tight line, and it is such an infuriating answer he can’t help a frown of his own. She is NOT treating him like dirt. Not when she managed to take his breath away for a solid second. 

And, honestly, just who did those siblings think they were? Before Zuko got off his high horse he’d think he was hot shit, too. 

“Ew, you’re all sweaty.” Sokka scoffs, making a show out of trying to clean his shirt, the spot where Azula collided against him, and at least she has the decency to blush an angry shade of red. 

She seems to make herself smaller for a second, and he almost feels bad. Almost. That is, until she places one hand at her hip and raises an insolent brow. “Some of us like to take care of ourselves; running proves a good ally for that. You should try it, sometime. Perhaps it will help your mind. It doesn’t do miracles, though. I’m most afraid” she says, and she even looks him over as if trying to make her point clear. 

Azula fails miserably, feeling the fluttering beat of her treacherous heart. For a moment, her mouth is just open as she eyes him and actually pays attention to what she is seeing. Not that she would admit it, but he is kind of cute. More so that day, with his black t-shirt tight against the muscles of his chest, his tattoos hidden by the long sleeves of his jacket. Azula finds, to her horror, that it becomes harder to keep disgust on her eyes. Still, father did not raise  _ two _ fools, so she shuts her mouth and clenches her jaw. And  _ damn him and all his ancestors! _

Sokka does not miss the way her eyes seem to linger on his pecks, and on his biceps, and smirks. So she’s human, after all. His small victory tastes like ash on his mouth, though, and that is why he hated her guts back when they saw each other daily. “Wow, a taunt at my brains, real original. Extra points for creativity, princess,” he says, and it is just so delightful to annoy her, to see the fire burning in her eyes, the way she clenches her fists at her sides.

Azula doesn’t look at him then - in fact, her eyes seem to be glued on something a few feet away from them and it is such a calculated movement he just knows she’s faking it. Still, she scoffs, as if he was the most annoying person on earth and she wasn’t just checking him out. He laughs before he can help it, and  _ call him crazy _ , but he thinks she blushes. Again.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to say his next words, but they stumble out of his mouth before he can contain them. And it’s not like he cares, not at all - why would he care about Azula, of all people? He does care about his job, though, and the girl he saw for like, a second, while he did her tattoo. “Did your tattoo heal well?”

“Yeah. Surprisingly enough it hasn’t left me a bad infection or anything,” she nods, making a show out of inspecting her long red nails. “I knew you had to be good at something.”

“Oh, you think you’re funny. So cute,” sarcasm is biting on his remark, and this time he does roll his eyes. 

“That was a compliment.”

“And my asking in the first place was just trying to be kind. Not that you’d know what it is even if it bit you in the ass.”

“Right,” she scoffs. “Well, there’s no need to try and charm me. I won’t be getting another anytime soon.”

“What? Still afraid of needles?” he asks, mirth coloring his blue eyes, and an infuriating smile gracing his lips.

Azula frowns in confusion, eyes squinting.  _ “How-? _ I’m  _ not _ afraid of needles.”

“Yeah, right. You were  _ not _ shaking because of that, at all. You were just  _ shy _ ,” Sokka says, an eyebrow raised. He coos, coos at her, and Azula feels her fire burning right under her skin, ready to blaze him. “Zuko actually told us.”

“Well,  _ tell Zuko _ to watch his back. I’m going to fucking kill him.”

Sokka laughs, again, and it’s that melodic sound that she so purposely hates (who on Earth has the right to have a sexy laugh?). “Sometimes I wish I could do that, too.”

Her lips still in a thin line, she keeps herself from returning the smile -because what she said is a whole mood. She manages to do so, even if her eyes gleam with mischief. “He has that power, doesn’t he?”

“He’s still like a brother to me,” he says, and he means it. Hard gaze focuses on her, he takes a step closer, his voice dropping whatever fun was left in it. There is no longer mirth in his smile as he goes on, “I won’t tell him I saw you. Whatever game you’re playing,  _ leave him out _ .”

It feels like a slap. Not that she wasn’t expecting it, but still. Glaring at him, she raises her chin, petulant expression on her otherwise pretty features.  _ “Or what? _ ”

“Or I’ll…  _ I’ll _ … Look, I get it,” he sighs, rubbing at his forehead, where he can feel a headache slowly spreading. “You get off on annoying people.  _ I get it. _ I  _ have _ a sister. But your brother…  _ he’s not a bad person _ . He doesn’t deserve this…,” he says, pointing at her with a gesture of his hand, “whatever it is that you’re doing.”

Did everyone really believe her so pathetic that her only purpose in life is to torment her brother? 

“Not that it matters,  _ because it doesn’t  _ \- but I do not have a hidden agenda. You flatter me, but I happen to have a busy life. Tormenting my brother is not on my priority list.”

“Yeah, I don’t believe you,” he crunches his nose.

“And I don’t fucking care,” Azula says with a shrug, her tone mirroring his. And before he can even process what he is going to say next, she drops her arms at her side, and there is that faint smell of smoke as she turns to run away from him.

_ “Azula!” _ he yells, because he’s not quite finished. And who does she think she is, again?

“And just for the record,” she says, stopping to half-turn to him. He notices then that her voice wavers the tiniest bit at the end, but her eyes never lose its fire. “You might feel like he’s your brother,  _ but he’s not _ . I, however, am his sister. And you know nothing of our family dynamics.”

“Ha! Family dynamics, you say?” he screeches, actually screeches. She’s NOT leaving him talking to himself. “You have not been family to him!  _ What kind of sister…?”  _ he stops once she has her back turned to him again. _ “You owe me a coffee! _ ”

_ “Fuck off!” _

* * *

Sokka knew it wasn’t his day. Granted, work went alright and he even secured himself a new client. He read three entire chapters of his book of the week and even ate some ramen that wasn’t burned. However, the universe soon admitted that it only took mercy on him because the worst was yet to come. He certainly did not expect to run into Azula that night.

Sokka and Katara enter the small restaurant still laughing from a silly joke Hakoda made. Katara crunches her nose, as she has to listen to yet another teasing comment about her newfound relationship. Rosy cheeks and eyes rolling, she mutters for him to go fuck himself while Hadoka examines the menu. 

“At least the kid’s fine,” Sokka says, ruffling his sister’s hair. “You’ve done worse.”

“There’s definitely an improvement,” Hakoda laughs at Katara’s blush, guiding them all to their table at the center of the restaurant.

“Dad!”

“That is a compliment!” he is quick to say, a fond smile on his lips.

“That’s an understatement,” Sokka nods. “Though I guess everyone’s better than Jet.”

“I thought we were celebrating my finding a job, not discussing my relationships,” Katara says, rolling her eyes. Hadoka does not need to look under the table to know that she just kicked her brother in the shin.

“ _ Cheers to the best daughter I could’ve asked for!”  _ Hadoka comes closer so that they can have a toast, and it is then that Sokka notices the small figure at the window.

Pixie cut, all dark outfit and a red coat, Azula is sitting by the window.

“Oh no,” she says after taking a sip of her drink, nose furrowing.

“What is she doing here?” Sokka asks aloud before he can help himself, the memory of their encounter in that morning still fresh in his mind.

“Who cares? Let’s just eat,” Katara bites hard on a french fry.

“Who is she?” Hakoda asks interested, eyes going from his son to his daughter.

“Zuko’s little sister.”

“Doesn’t seem so little. How old is she?”

“As old as me.”

“Don’t—don’t you want to say hello?”

“We’re not friends, dad,” Sokka explains without taking his eyes off his plate.

Hakoda raises an eyebrow. “But I thought, since you and Zuko—”

“Yeah, Zuko’s different.  _ She is a bitch _ .”

_ “Katara!” _

“It’s true, dad,” Sokka nods, biting hard on a french fry.

“You remember when you met Ozai?” Katara asks, wincing.

“I try not to.”

“Well, she’s just like that.”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah,  _ ugh.” _

“Let’s just eat, please. I’m starving.”

“You said the same just two hours ago.”

“I’ll eat you if I want to!”

“Let’s leave cannibalism for another day, kids. Please.”

They laugh.

Sokka’s eyes, however, keep wandering at the lone table at the window, where Azula calmly eats her dinner, eyes fixed on her cellphone. She talks to no one, spine straight as a column. He thinks she looks every bit the princess she thinks she is. Regal, even in the middle of a greasy dinner. It seems weird, though, that she is so alone. No one tries to make conversation, not even her waitress. Sokka wonders if maybe she was stood up. Serves her right, he thinks, but he doesn’t feel too good about it. 

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, perfect!”

“How was work?” Hakoda’s soft eyes are fixed on him, genuinely interested, and Sokka soon enough forgets about the object of his interest.

He goes on recounting his day. The content of the chapters he read. The tattoos he made for this weird client who almost passed out at the first contact of the machine with his skin. They all laugh about it - about Sokka’s rendition of the scene, albeit a little exaggerated. For comedy effect, of course. They don’t notice a pair of golden eyes longingly looking at them.

They don’t notice a young woman asking herself if maybe that is what it means to have a family.

The rest of the dinner is alright. They have another toast in Katara’s honor. Hakoda even prepared a speech for her - one that he delivers not without a few tears in his eyes, strong arms soon finding their way around his little girl. 

“You act as if you never thought I would get a nice job!” she half-jokes, half cries, hugging Hakoda tight.

“I’m just so, so proud of you.”

And they are in their little bubble, asking for dessert just after that. 

When Sokka looks again, Azula isn’t there. It is as if she banished in a blinking, and there is no trace of her presence. He looks at the now empty table, and imagines her walking home. He wonders if she got bored of waiting. If she is coming back home. He doesn’t know why.

* * *

Azula is lost in the scene happening in front of her. A man hugging his daughter so tight it seems he could break her at any moment. And yet, it doesn’t happen. They hug each other with so much love, so much care, something inside her feels empty. She no longer wants to finish her hamburger. She pushes the plate away, unable to keep her eyes off the scene. Would they feel her stare, or are they just so happy in their own little bubble that nothing else matters? And what exactly does it feel like, to love someone so much the entire world becomes secondary? Before Azula can think too much of it, a deep masculine voice takes her out of her reverie.

“Huang Azula?” He is tall with skin a light brown color, and a long beard that is as white as snow. His stand is severe, and it reminds her a little of the men working under her father, or the bodyguards that used to protect her. 

“Who is asking?” she says, an eyebrow raised.

“Allow me to introduce myself properly,” the man says, bowing respectfully. His voice seems tainted by age, but he can't be older than sixty. “I am detective Lee.” 

Ah, detective Lee. The man who is leeching off her savings account. The one who is also her only hope of ever finding out what happened to Ursa. Legend has it, he worked under Ozai for a long time. He was dismissed a few months before Ursa left, though, and that incredible coincidence was what pushed Azula to contact him. It wasn't an easy feat - the man knew how to hide, but Azula was persistent. It was her only redeeming quality, perhaps. After two months of hunting him down, he wrote to her. He spoke in riddles, mostly. Her source swore it was something normal of him - that she needed not to feel unsure. Trusting was not something that came easy to her, but she figured that it was worth it. If he was half as good as his job as everyone said, then it most likely was.

“It’s nice to finally put a face to the name, detective Lee,” she offers a nod.

“Likewise, miss.” Detective Lee takes a seat right in front of her, looking at her half-eaten burger forgotten aside. He raises an eyebrow, studying her in silence. Azula does not bulge, does not coward under his gaze. This is a game she is well versed on. “Am I interrupting?”

“I was just finishing,” she answers simply with a nonchalant movement of her hand. “Would you like something?”

“No, thank you,” he nods. “I’d rather talk somewhere more… private.”

“I take it you found something.”

“Come with me, miss Huang.”

* * *

Zuko knows he is sulking just as much as he knows he can’t help it. His eyes seem glued to the door, waiting for something to happen. Perhaps to see his mother crossing the door, looking just as she did when she disappeared from his life all those years ago. Perhaps to see his sister – the sister he remembers from the days of their early childhood, with a toothy smile and adoration in her eyes. Perhaps, and it scares him to even think of it, he just wants that door to become the wooden door at their home, opening up at Father’s command, a little girl on his arms and Ursa trailing behind him with a look of pure happiness, their clothes disheveled from their day at the beach. He wants to be that kid again – unmarred and unscarred, smiling so bright it hurt his cheeks after a while, feeling his mother’s hands on his face.

“Hey,” Suki’s voice is soft as she sits in front of him, sparing him the view of that damned door. A look of concern adorns her features – brow furrowed, and lips worried by her teeth. “ Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“’Cause you look just as distracted as your uncle.”

“Azula came by the other night.”

“She did?” Sokka asks before he can stop himself. Fortunately, they are all too busy studying Zuko to pay attention to his sudden burst.

“Oh, no,” Katara’s sigh is as compassionate as it is hateful, and he smiles a little at that. 

“Yeah.”

“How was it?” Suki sympathetically smiles, a hand touching Zuko’s forearm.

“What do you think?” 

“That bad, huh?”Toph asks, sighing loud enough for her bangs to be swept. 

“She got in a fight with Iroh.”

“Ohh, that’s a thing I’d have paid to see! She is in dire need of someone taking the stick off her ass.”

“Kinky,” Sokka says, mirth in her eyes.

“It wasn’t physical. Though Uncle did slap her.”

“Serves her right. I’ve always thought she needed a good slap,” Katara says, rolling her eyes.

“That, too.”

“Some spanking is what she needs,” Suki says, brows furrowed.

“Uhhh, kinky!” Aang laughs, and Toph is quick to follow.

_ “Hey, you didn’t laugh when I said it!” _

“‘Cause you’re not that funny!” Toph said, sticking her tongue in his direction.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Suki is fast to explain.

“The mental image. Oh my god.” Katara shivers, crossing her arms as she closes her eyes.

“Can we please just not talk about my sister like that?” Zuko groans. “ _ Gross _ .”

“What did she want?” Aang asks, ever the peacemaker.

“She wanted to talk about Dad.”

_ “Uh.” _

Taking that as a prompt to keep on going, Zuko fidgets with his jacket. “She says she was disowned, too.”

“And you believe her?” Sokka asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know. She seemed… lost.” Zuko says, and there it is -- a weird sensation in Sokka’s stomach. He thought she seemed lost the day she went to the tattoo shop, that night some weeks ago, when she was at the same dinner as him and Katara. When she was looking at the window.

“She  _ is _ a good liar,” Suki says, a worried tone in her voice.

“I know.  _ Believe me _ , I do. But she mentioned mom.”

“ _ And?” _

“And she can’t lie when it comes to her.”

“So she has a soft spot for the woman who birthed her.  _ Still an asshole _ .” Katara huffs.

“Yeah, no one’s saying she isn’t,” Sokka says.

“So… you don’t think my mother is alive?”

“That’s not what I said, I meant—”

“What? That she’s dead? That she was killed? That she—”

“I am just saying, she loved you too much to just… abandon you like that,” Katara finally says, with as much tact as she can manage.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. What he was capable of! She probably was just… scared – _ is _ scared!”

“Haven’t you thought that, perhaps, the only reason why she hasn’t come back is because she… _ can’t? _ ”Suki wets her lips, trying not to look directly at Zuko.

“That’s impossible. If she were dead, we’d know.”

“Hey. Hey. It’s alright. We’re only trying to offer a different point of view, no need to get all defensive.”

“This all could be Azula’s lying, though.”

“Why would she lie about her own mother?”Aang frowns.

“Duh, ‘cause she is Azula,” Toph says.

“I mean, yeah. But doesn’t that just seem a little… too much?” Zuko sighs, massaging his head.

“She’s crazy, what else can you expect?”

Sokka laughs hard at that, nodding. 

“Or, she really is trying to help you,” Suki offers, looking at Zuko.

“She’s Azula.” 

“And the woman she is looking for is your mother. What? Can’t she miss her mom?” Aang.

“Mom and her never really got along. Azula was… complicated. Even as a child.”

“That’s an understatement.” Toph laughs. Aang can’t help but frown, softly shaking his head.

“But _ she’s _ her mother. Surely she must—”

“I wouldn’t blame her if Ursa didn’t want anything to do with your family anymore. No offense, but after what you’ve told us…” Sokka trails off, not wanting to get into the deepest shit yet.

“I just want to see her again. To know that she is alright,” Zuko sighs, letting his head fall against the back of the couch. Suki’s gentle touch is a sweet comfort, and he eases if only a little.

“Well, then you should reconsider her offer,” Suki says, lips in a thin line.

“That’s what I’ve been thinking. I just… she was really a bitch to Uncle.”

“Isn’t that just her personality?” Sokka said, an eyebrow raised.

“She is still your sister,” Aang says as carefully as he can, perched on his seat.

“When has it mattered to her?” Katara says, and her tone is biting.

“I know that, Aang,” Zuko says, and his voice trembles. Feeling all eyes on him, he tries to excuse himself, tries to speak as fast as he can so that all his thoughts and memories are buried, but it all fails in the end. “She wasn’t always like this, okay? There was a time when… I just. It’s only me and Iroh, and it’s great. But I’ve been thinking that-- that she really doesn’t have anyone, with Father gone.”

“Well, it serves her right. She sided with your dad after he— _ after what he did to you! _ ” Katara scoffs, crossing her arms.

“If it had been me, I wouldn’t have sided with her.  _ What does that make me _ ?”

“A fucking mess, frankly.”

“Thanks, Toph.”

“Anytime,” she says, shrugging. “But, seriously. Your family is fucked up.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“Hey, no matter what you decide. We’ll be on your side,” Suki says, her eyes soft.

“Yeah,” Sokka goes on, “even if it means having to stand having Azula around. Whatever makes you happy, we’re rooting for you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Katara seems to murmur, but it is cut by Sokka’s elbowing her. “Totally,” she corrects herself.

“You can count on us, no questions asked,” Aang's placating tone is peaceful, and Zuko is for once thankful for such a thing.

“Thank you. Truly.”

“You know what we need? We need a drink.”

“We’re having drinks, Toph.”

“No, but like, at a club or something. I need to get wasted somewhere the air doesn’t feel miserable. No offense but I don’t like my men moaning about their mom.”

“I’m  _ not _ your man,” Zuko says through squinted eyes.

“But you wish you were.”

“If that helps you sleep at night,” he says, and this time the smile can be heard on his voice, drawing one on Toph’s lips.

“Ouch,” Sokka feigns to have felt the burn of the last bit, and Toph punches him hard on the chest.  _ “Ouch!” _

“You deserve it,” she says, pretty proud of herself.

“You know? Going out is actually a good idea. It’ll help you get your mind off of it.”

“I don’t know if I want to, really—”

“Zuko, don’t be fucking boring, please. The more you think about it the crazier you’ll drive yourself. And, not to be that person, but that’s exactly what your evil sister would want.”

“Yeah, fuck that.”

“Alright, let me just… text Mai.”

“You’re so whipped it’s no longer fun.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“Of course you’d think that, you’re dating Twinkle Toes!”


End file.
